Studio Paradiso (San Francisco, CA)

Nov 20, 2012

There are just those people out there who prove that it needn't be so hard. Or, it's a suggestion - a strongly worded one, spilled with beautiful hesitance. There's a guy that I know who fervently insists that everyone in a committed relationship fights. They argue and it gets worse. It escalates and turns into something mildly violent. These are just called passions, when it happens between two people who are supposed to love one another, but it's easy to see through that line of bullshit. People that are supposed to love each other find themselves disagreeing more than they ever agree. It comes to blows and shouting matches on the lawn. It gets ugly. The neighbors all are suddenly made aware that you love one another. What else could it be? Two people who didn't care about each other would never yell and fight and let it fall out onto the porch for everyone to take in. There's only one thing it can be - big old damned love. That's what certain people decide to claim it as, but that's really nothing at all. It's not even tolerance. It's not even respect and it falls laughably short of decency. It's garbage, but it's what some people find most fascinating about love. It's that it can be sabotaged well before the preexisting expiration date that's not usually fudged around too much. It can be sensed.

The kind of love that Julie "Jules" Ann Bee sings about, as Sea of Bees, is a stark contrast to these shenanigans and farces. Sea of Bees music is dedicated to the legitimately pleasurable parts of what it means to arrive at the goods - those sought for so long - the ones that strike swiftly and perfect aim. These are the goods that never make things worse. These are people who enhance life not make it a bear. They reinforce the simple life, for this Sacramento, California, songwriter, who's obviously a hopeless romantic, as she's likely to remain always.

Her songs are special in the ways that they get us to those places that feel like they're untouchable. The people in them are fighting the good fight, trying to get through to the ones that they love that it's all going to be alright, that they're going to be able to get past all of those monsters that they have to deal with in their dreams, that they're going to be alright if they're just able to give themselves over. They will be caught. There's nothing to worry about. It's not a trap. There's not a lot being asked here - by anyone.

Bee's voice is one that we trust as a narrator. It grabs us and it guides us to these wind-whipped souls who have seemingly washed up into the right arms at last. They've never asked for much and they're asking for the same here, as Bee sings, "Kiss me once or twice/Maybe I could die happy as a bird."

There are just those people out there who prove that it needn't be so hard. Or, it's a suggestion - a strongly worded one, spilled with beautiful hesitance. There's a guy that I know who fervently insists that everyone in a committed relationship fights. They argue and it gets worse. It escalates and turns into something mildly violent. These are just called passions, when it happens between two people who are supposed to love one another, but it's easy to see through that line of bullshit. People that are supposed to love each other find themselves disagreeing more than they ever agree. It comes to blows and shouting matches on the lawn. It gets ugly. The neighbors all are suddenly made aware that you love one another. What else could it be? Two people who didn't care about each other would never yell and fight and let it fall out onto the porch for everyone to take in. There's only one thing it can be - big old damned love. That's what certain people decide to claim it as, but that's really nothing at all. It's not even tolerance. It's not even respect and it falls laughably short of decency. It's garbage, but it's what some people find most fascinating about love. It's that it can be sabotaged well before the preexisting expiration date that's not usually fudged around too much. It can be sensed.

The kind of love that Julie "Jules" Ann Bee sings about, as Sea of Bees, is a stark contrast to these shenanigans and farces. Sea of Bees music is dedicated to the legitimately pleasurable parts of what it means to arrive at the goods - those sought for so long - the ones that strike swiftly and perfect aim. These are the goods that never make things worse. These are people who enhance life not make it a bear. They reinforce the simple life, for this Sacramento, California, songwriter, who's obviously a hopeless romantic, as she's likely to remain always.

Her songs are special in the ways that they get us to those places that feel like they're untouchable. The people in them are fighting the good fight, trying to get through to the ones that they love that it's all going to be alright, that they're going to be able to get past all of those monsters that they have to deal with in their dreams, that they're going to be alright if they're just able to give themselves over. They will be caught. There's nothing to worry about. It's not a trap. There's not a lot being asked here - by anyone.

Bee's voice is one that we trust as a narrator. It grabs us and it guides us to these wind-whipped souls who have seemingly washed up into the right arms at last. They've never asked for much and they're asking for the same here, as Bee sings, "Kiss me once or twice/Maybe I could die happy as a bird."